Two Silent Feet
by Linhlea
Summary: Misao has fallen into a predictable routine each day. That routine is shattered when she is confronted by a certain Mibu Wolf. Misao is to become a geisha and work with an insufferable smiling idiot. Soujiro X Misao
1. Routine

I don't own Rurouni Kenshin

I've been craving some SoujiroXMisao fics, but it seems that the fandom for them is dying. So, I decided to write one of my own, in hopes that people will follow and more fics will come out for the two of them. Really, can someone please write some fics for them? I can only read the same fics so many times.

Also, this is my SuWiMo fanfic! If you don't know what that is, it's a lot like NaNoWriMo (which I entered last year), only for the spawn of three months instead of one, and you get to chose your goal! If you still don't know what NaNoWriMo is, it's a contest where you write a story that's 50k words in one month. But anyways, my goal is 50k words, and hopefully, since it's in a longer time period, I won't get lazy and stop writing this for long periods of time.

Anyways, enough of my rantings of SuWrimo, Soujiro doesn't show up in this chapter, but he will in the next! I hope you enjoy!

* * *

The heart shuts itself  
still now falling apart.  
Days I laughed  
holding back the tears.

—Mushi by Dir en grey

* * *

Chapter 1  


Routine

* * *

_Wake up._

The wind biting against her skin was unforgiving. Her bare feet felt cold against the wet ground, but it was no longer raining. The sky was gray and dark with the scent of mist all around her. Her eyes were distant for a moment before continuing on with her task.

Her shoes were clutched tightly in one hand as she moved away from the temple, and in the other was a damp parasol. A smile was on her face, and she greeted everyone she passed by.It was tradition by now; everyone knew that Misao came down this way often, and they all knew why and where she was going.

_Give Aoshi his tea._

She ignored the feeling of the mud clinging onto her skin every time she took a step; actually, she relished in the cool feeling and wiggled her toes against the muck.

Misao walked deliberately slow, hoping that maybe if she stalled, he would come after her and whisk her someplace far away. She knew that it was wishful thinking on her part, but the hope never fully diminished.

_Wish that Aoshi would love her._

She stopped, the area now devoid of anyone but her, and dropped her shoes. They splattered against the ground, now covered in the brown mud, as her body became deathly still. Misao closed her eyes, remembering, reliving absolutely nothing.

That is just what her life has become—absolutely nothing.

Aoshi never heard her voice, he could listen all he wants, but he never heard what she had to say. His treatment was so silent and cold, and even after two years; she never even saw a crack of a smile.

Misao didn't even notice that the rain had started up again. She just stood there with her eyes closed and a small smile placed upon her lips. There was too huge of a difference between reality and fantasy in this moment.

If only the line could blur this once, just for her.

_Delude herself with fantasies._

Her eyes opened, sorrow filled to the brim in her eyes, but she merely shook it off and continued walking. She never paid attention to the forgotten shoes left lifelessly in the mud.

It wasn't long before her thoughts—reality—came back to her, but she needed escape. So, she simply started running. Her feet slapped against the slippery road; her destination was nowhere in site or in mind. She ran as if it would take all of her problem away.

She ran as if it would make Aoshi love her the way that she wanted him to.

Her skin was numb from the rain; the droplets giving her more comfort than anything alive ever could. Her legs pumped as hard and fast as she could, the pain appearing from how hard she was pushing herself.

_Run as if death was upon her._

Her body stopped, lurching forwards and almost falling, in front of the Aoiya. Her once blank face now held a smile, and her body jumped around excitedly. She leaped into the restaurant, not caring how wet or muddy she was.

_Act as if she was ok._

"Misao!" Omasu scolded when she saw the state she was in. The said girl merely waved her off; her feet padding across the hardwood floors with mud tracks following her ever step. "Misao!" she scolded once again.

"Hold on! I'll clean it up. It's not my fault that it's raining outside!" Misao yelled back just as she was grabbing a towel for her wet form. She quickly changed to dry clothes and shook her head as if that would dry her hair faster.

_Fight and laugh with her family._

It didn't take long to clean up the mud, and she quickly made her way to the restaurant to work with the costumers. Her smile was bright and contagious as she bounced from one table to the next. Her chatter was bubbly and happy, just the way the costumers love their waitress.

_Work in the Aoiya._

"Hey, Misao-chan! How about coming over here now!" a group of guys called out. She smiled at them brightly and bounded over. The noise of the Aoiya was welcoming to her ears. All sadness was forgotten as her mind stayed on their task.

"What would you like guys?"

"Well, we would ask for you, but you already have a man," one answered with a lopsided grin. Misao laughed, but inside, she was wishing that it was true.

"Stopping joking like that guys!" she grinned at them. "Must you say that every time? Are you getting the usual or not?"

They all laughed and nodded, the one who spoke gave her a wink, just as Misao walked away to give the order.

Genuine happiness came from serving—helping—others. It allowed her forget about herself and Aoshi for once.

"My pretty Misao!" Okina shouted while he bounced towards her with as much energy as she had.

Misao grinned at him, but she didn't do much else. Her hands were filled with food as she began to set them down to each costumer. "Whatcha need Jiya?" she asked once she was done.

"You are just growing up so fast," he answered with sparkles in his eyes. "Pretty soon you will bring home a nice husband for me." He wiped away a tear from his eyes.

She rolled her eyes as her own sparkle reached hers. "You know the only person I would marry is my Aoshi-sama!" It was then that she noticed that Okina was too preoccupied with a group of female costumers to listen to her.

She puffed up her cheeks in annoyance and stuck out her tongue at him. It was just too strong to resist the urge to do so.

It was routine; the same thing every single day with only a few small changes. Nothing seemed to change in these past two years.

Just as it always had, time quickly passed by until it was time to close the Aoiya. And as always, Misao would give a large grin to the disappearing costumers.

As she stood by the doors, she couldn't help but have her eyes linger out there. It was as if she was watching for him to be there or maybe just to have him come back. She shook her head and turned away from the door. The rain still howled on outside.

She wiped the sweat from her forehead from running around all day and turned to make her way to the office. She plopped into her seat and glanced at the mound of work placed upon the desk.

_Work as the Okashira. _

She quickly dived into the pile and worked as fast as she could. They had no money at the base in Tokyo. Misao quickly sent them some money they made from the Aoiya.

There was some suspicious behavior that needed to be checked out in Yokohama. She sent a note to the Oniwabanshuu members there to check it out and to report back.

A noble family was paying them to guard their daughter. She sent someone to go take care of it.

It was only little things that were brought to attention. It was the time of peace, and they had little use of ninjas now a days.

She closed her eyes, satisfied with the work done today, and got up sleepily; it was already dark outside.

_Get ready for bed._

Misao didn't pay attention to anything around her, thus, she didn't notice when she collided with a warm and very hard body.

"So, you're still the Okashira huh?" Misao jerked her body away immediately and glared at the man in front of her. "Do you really think that you're competent enough to do that Weasel?"

"What are **you** doing here?" she growled in annoyance; her certain dislike of him was definitely not hidden.

He stood by the door casually, a smirk played on his lips with a cigarette dangling on his fingers. His eyes danced with amusement, and it was even more so when he spoke his next three words.

"I want you."

Her routine—her life—was broken as she stared up at Hajime Saitou in shock.

* * *

To be continued

* * *


	2. Leaving

I don't own Rurouni Kenshin.

Whoo Thanks for the reviews guys. So, as thanks, I put the next chapter up!

Warning: Misao still shall be a bit angst-y in here, but it won't be forever! She will be back to her old self in no time.

And, Soujiro makes his apperence... (cough—if you can call it that...) But without further ado, here is the second chapter!

(P.S. I'm still craving Soujiro X Misao fics... someone should write one...)

* * *

His form is changing,  
far away but all too close  
Should I wear a mask,  
so I can hide my face drawn with tension  
when I'm with him.

—Jealous by Dir en grey

* * *

Chapter 2

Leaving

* * *

Misao twitched uncomfortably, her hands automatically pouring tea as she did for Aoshi. Saitou merely watched in amusement before picking up his tea and taking a sip. His eyes narrowed as he watched her squirm under his gaze and the tension thickened in the air.

He loved every minute of it.

"Are you gonna tell me what you really want or not?" Misao snapped, finally unable to stand his gaze any longer. She had to take a sip from her cup in hopes that it would calm her down. Her body was fidgeting in discomfort the entire time.

"I told you already, I want you," he stated simply. He did nothing to hide the wide smirk playing on his lips.

Misao's face became bright red from anger and embarrassment. She gripped the cup in her hand almost to the point of breaking it, and Saitou was sure that she was going to throw it at him if he didn't get to the point.

"What? Is the weasel thinking improper thoughts?" he taunted. "Little girls shouldn't think like that." If it was possible, Misao's face became an even brighter shade of red. "If you get any redder, I think you're going to explode."

"Why, you!" Misao growled angrily. Her kunai were held in her hand so tight that her knuckles became white. She was ready to throw them at Saitou at any moment.

He concluded that the cup was more dangerous.

"If you really think that I want to be with you, then you can forget it! I won't love anyone besides my Aoshi-sama!"

Saitou reeled back in disgust, as if the accusation that they might actually be together was appalling, despite what he said. "You actually took me seriously? I don't play with little girls."

As if to emphasize his point, he lit up a cigarette and inhaled the nicotine. He blew the smoke into her face, which caught her into a coughing fit. The only warning that he had gotten was the flash in her eyes before her knives embedded into the wall beside his head.

His eyes flashed as he continued with a sneer, the smoke pooling out of his mouth as he spoke. He acted as if she didn't just send an attack towards him. "What I need is a **woman**, and a pretty one at that."

Misao was taken back by that request, and even more anger seared through her body. "This isn't a brothel you old man! How dare you come in here and even imply that the honorable Oniwaba—"

"Let me finished!" he roared in his own anger. All traces of amusement were gone in an instant. "I didn't come all the way here to have you think that I was trying to get that! I have a wife, Weasel, and remember that."

He was barely able to dodge the next attack she sent to his head.

"Stop calling me weasel! And get to the point already, the only reason why I haven't killed you yet is because it's my duty as Okashira to listen to you!"

Saitou scoffed at that comment. A puff of smoke came out in his disbelief. "You couldn't even get close." Misao was about to retort, but he didn't allow her to say anymore. "I could have you arrested for assault," he warned, and Misao slumped down in defeat, allowing him to speak once more.

"There's an underground sex ring that we have been working on. Unfortunately, we can't get close enough to it to do anything. We need someone to go in undercover, preferably a woman," he finally explained between inhales of the cigarette. "They primarily go after geishas, so we need someone to go in as a geisha but still be able to fight."

"I can do it then," she answered with determination.

Saitou laughed at how ridiculous the idea was. Misao, a geisha? "How can you go in if you never even worn a kimono?" His eyes swept over her with scorn. "Plus, I don't think they take weasels. Don't you remember? I asked for a pretty woman."

He once again had to dodge another barrage of kunai.

"If you don't stop that, I'm going to kill you myself. I have to make sure that nothing goes wrong in this mission, and I'm not going to have a bumbling fool like you ruin it," he told her coolly.

"I'm the Okashira of the Oniwabanshuu! I won't be insulted like this!" she screamed. Misao clenched her fist in anger; it took all that she was to keep herself from attacking the policeman once more.

"Fine," Saitou agreed, a hand nursing his head, as if he only did so to shut her up. "We will leave in the morning. You're going to start training to become a geisha as soon as we arrive in Tokyo."

Misao winced, finally realizing that she would have to wear a kimono for this mission, but it was too late to retract her "assistance." How hard could it be to be a geisha? All she had to do was dance and look pretty.

"If you make me regret this," his golden eye narrowed at her, as if daring for her to mess up, "then I'll personally make sure that you and your little group will pay."

She rolled her eyes, not at all afraid. "I'd like to see you try." Saitou stood, one hand in his pocket, and the other flicked the burnt out cigarette butt towards her.

"Trust me, I can, _Okashira_," he sneered. As he stood, he bowed mockingly towards her and stepped outside. His eyebrow rose when he saw Aoshi sitting, with his back towards Saitou, in front of the door. "Shinomori," he greeted before walking out.

Misao looked out to see if Saitou was gone yet, and in his place she saw Aoshi. The anger that was once on her face instantly disappeared and a bright smile was in its place.

"Aoshi-sama!" she exclaimed, "What are you doing here?"

"I heard yelling," he answered simply.

"Sorry if I woke you up," she apologized.

"I was already awake," he bluntly answered. He didn't say anymore, but Misao wouldn't give up.

"I'm going to Tokyo for a mission!" She chirped while sitting down beside Aoshi, and she gave him a wide smile. He looked down at him with no emotion on his face, as always.

"I haven't seen Kenshin and Kaoru in a long time! It'll be nice to see them. I dunno how long I'm gonna be gone, but still, it'll be nice to get away for a little while." When she got no answer, she looked over to see Aoshi with his eyes closed, and she sighed.

He didn't want to listen to her insistent gabber.

Misao looked down, her feet kicking back and forth in discomfort. She ran out of this to say, and in its place was the silence of the night. Still, she closed her eyes, just enjoying the fact that she was here with him. He didn't have to force himself to stay here, but he chose to do so.

It was a moment just for her.

"Misao?" he called out after a few moments. The said girl looked over at him in curiosity; a bright smile spread across her face at the fact that he actually spoke without her initiating it.

He paused for a moment, almost like he was thinking of what to say, or if it was because he was embarrassed. Misao perished the thought. Aoshi didn't get embarrassed.

"Are you alright?" he asked. Misao paused, looking at him in astonishment. He really did care about her!

Misao laughed, more than happy by his kind act. Her body jumped forward to face him, and for once, she had to look down to talk to him. "I'm great! Even better than great, cause I'm here with you, Aoshi-sama." She faltered a bit, hoping—almost needing—to hear him say the same. "Why do you ask?

"You're quieter than usual."

Without thinking, she burst out laughing even harder than before. She had no idea why she did such a thing, but Aoshi could only watch as she fell to the floor, clutching her stomach in the process.

Joyous laughter left her lips, but even she didn't realize just exactly why she was laughing so hard. It might've been because the one time he asked about her well being, she was feeling just fine. She might've just been in shock, or it was because her routine was broken. Aoshi didn't seem to mind, or maybe he just didn't show his discomfort, but Misao forced herself to stifle her laughter into small giggles.

"I'm sorry Aoshi-sama, I just didn't expect you to say _that_." She leaned back (he was almost afraid that she would fall), a wide smile on her face, but he could tell that she wanted to laugh again.

He found her laughter to be refreshing.

"Aa," he answered. "You should get to bed, it's getting late."

Misao frowned, not wanting to leave the moment she shared with the one she loved, but even she couldn't hid the yawn that escaped her lips. "I don't want to go to bed yet," she protested.

"You're going to Tokyo with Saitou in the morning, am I correct?" Aoshi didn't wait for an answer, and Misao couldn't help but feel like a child being scolded by her father. "You need to get to bed if you want to wake up in time."

She rolled her eyes, the emblem of a rebellious teenager. "That old man? He can sit his mean butt down and wait for me!" she giggled. "He can't leave without me anyways."

"Misao," Aoshi warned. Misao grudgingly agreed and set off to her room after wishing him a good night. He only watched her until she was out of sight.

"Spoken like a true father," Saitou taunted; his position was now noticeable with the lit match in his hand. Aoshi didn't say a word as the older man lit the cigarette in between his lips.

"Why Misao?" he asked. Saitou smirked at the younger man and flicked some ash onto the ground.

"She asked for it," answered the Wolf of Mibu, his golden eyes daring Aoshi to object. "Why? Is the father afraid for his child? I think the little girl is more than ready to take care of herself." It wasn't even close to a praise to the petite girl, instead, it was meant to tease Aoshi over his protectiveness.

If only Misao could hear it now, but it wasn't for the reason that she really wanted.

"Or is it because you truly love that girl." Aoshi's eyes were icy cold, but even Saitou could see the irritation that he was doused in.

"The former Okashira requested that I take care of her," he answered emotionlessly. "Misao is just a child. She isn't ready to take on this mission alone." Saitou could only scoff and dropped his cigarette onto the floor. As he walked away, he crushed it with the heel of his shoe.

"Maybe you should tell the weasel that." Aoshi didn't look at him, nor did he notice that Misao was standing not too far away, listening to the entire conversation.

"Aa." Immediately, Misao darted from her place and into her room. They both couldn't deny the fact that her footsteps echoed out from the hallway. Saitou smirked and moved into her direction. His eyes were mocking and daring Aoshi to act.

"It looks like we're going to leave soon." It didn't take long for Aoshi to stand and make his way towards Misao's room. He didn't seem to be in a hurry, in fact, his movements were much slower than before.

During this, Misao desperately moved as fast as she could to gather her things. Her mind wrapped around Aoshi's words before, and the onslaught of tears couldn't be stopped.

With shaking hands, she sank onto the floor. Her chest was heaving and tightening, almost to the point where she couldn't breathe. It felt as if someone grabbed her heart and squeezed as tight as they could.

Aoshi might as well have. He only thought of her as a child, not as a woman he could love.

Her name was called into her room, but she could barely make out the word in her grief stricken mind. She looked up to see the cold blue eyes that she loved. There was a shimmer of hope in her heart, wishing that maybe he was here to stop her because he didn't want her to get hurt—because he actually _loved _her.

Please, don't be because he thought that she was just a child.

"I'm going, Aoshi-sama," she managed to say with difficulty. If her broken up voice affected him at all, he didn't show it. His eyes only swept into the messy room before it landed on her once again. "There's nothing you can do to stop me."

"You can't take care o—"

"Don't you dare say that!" Her body was trembling once again, but this time it wasn't from sadness, instead, it was from pure and uncontrollable rage. "You weren't there!" They slipped from her eyes, the tears of frustration that she felt towards the older man. Misao's voice grew soft, like she was realizing this for the first time.

"You were never there…"

"You are still a child," he answered. "If you want to be seen as an adult, then you should act like it." Misao refused to look at him, the tears in her eyes too obvious already.

But Misao couldn't handle it; she just had to speak back. "No matter what I do, I'm always going to be a child in your eyes!" She looked at him, showing him everything plain and clearly through her green eyes.

"I'm **eighteen **years old! I was **alone** for years, Aoshi-sama, and for what?" She couldn't lose the bitter tone in her voice, and her eyes flashed in anger, telling him without words that she might just regret that decision now.

"I wasn't even the one who found you. The Aoshi-sama I knew is still out there somewhere."

She didn't even give him a chance to answer, not that she expected him to, before she grabbed her things and pushed past him. Misao didn't stop, but it didn't keep her from wishing that he would say _something_ or maybe nothing at all. She just wanted him to go after her.

He didn't even move when she left the Aoiya.

"Ready to go?" Saitou asked. He stood at the gate of the Aoiya. Misao looked at him in surprise.

"How would you know that? Are you stalking me now?" she demanded, half heartedly of course.

"After a fight with your _precious_ Aoshi-sama, I'd think that you would want to leave as soon as possible." He didn't even wait for her to answer before he left. "Too bad for you, we're not ready to leave until morning. I still have things to take care of. You'll have to stay with an officer of mine, unless you'd rather go back with your _Aoshi-sam,_" he mocked.

"What? Who do I have to stay with?" A smirk flittered across his lips, and he led Misao into a hotel. She looked suspicious at that look, but she was about to find out why as Saitou knocked on one of the doors.

The door slid open to reveal the face of—

"WHAT THE HELL IS THE TENKEN DOING HERE?"

* * *

To Be Continued

* * *


	3. Goodbye

I don't own Rurouni Kenshin

Happy Father's Day guys!

Do, considering that I didn't even get my own father a present cause I kind of forgot about it... I'll give you guys a present! (Insert sweatdrop here)

But anyways, this chapter isn't really that edited... so the grammar will such even more than usual. Still, I hope you enjoy it! Still, this chapter and the last chapter is a bit of filler chapters because I need 50k words... Though there is a lot of Soujiro and Misao moments! I see Soujiro as a teasing type of guy, so he might be characterized a little bit differently than he is in other fics, but oh well!

Also, thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter!

* * *

But no matter how far I run to escape from reality,  
can I get free from it?  
I can't get back to the road that I was on up until a little while ago  
It's twisting

—Warped Reflection by HIGH and MIGHTY COLOR

* * *

Chapter 3

Goodbye

* * *

Misao sat on one end of the room as Soujiro watched her from the other. The smile was never wiped from his lips, in spite of the fact that the younger girl was currently glaring at him with all of her might. Her hands twitched towards her kunai, ready to attack if need be.

His sword rested against his shoulder comfortably, and he watched her much more pleasantly than Misao was currently doing towards him. The futon lay in between them, acting like a barrier if one should attack, but it wasn't as if it could protect anyone.

"What ever it is you're planning, I'm on to you," Misao glared. Her hands ached to hold onto her kunai, and she allowed them to brush against it for comfort. Soujiro saw the movement, much to her displeasure, and he chuckled in amusement.

"Oh?" he answered. "I didn't know I was planning anything. Can you tell me exactly what it is I'm planning?" He didn't even flinch when a wave of kunai passed his head and a dull "clunk" reached his ears. He looked at each one of them and brushed against the hilt.

"Ah! These are very good kunai," he commented. It wasn't hard to pull one out, so he glanced at the sharp blades and ran a hand across it. "They would've cut me up really bad if they made contact with me. I guess I'm really lucky that Misao-chan can't aim."

The whizzing noise made by the kunai was more than enough for Soujiro's hand to shoot up and grasp the incoming blade. "Damn you, Tenken!" Misao cursed. He only grinned at the girl and brushed aside her knives.

"You actually aimed for me that time! Is Misao-chan angry at me?" He enjoyed taunting her; he would admit that to anyone. Everything about her was so foreign and different. She was oddly familiar.

"Don't even try addressing me as if we're friends! You want revenge against Kenshin don't you? It doesn't matter what you do, you won't be able to defeat him!"

He blinked at her confusingly with his head cocked to the side. "Wow, you must be amazing Makimachi-san! You knew what I was planning even though I didn't know it," he answered. His smile almost spread out into a smirk, and Misao looked at him in surprise. Was Soujiro actually sarcastic?

"Gah! Stop making fun of me!" Misao screamed. She hurled her body at him without thinking, but he was able to move away before her body contacted with his. "Ow, that hurt you jerk!" She tenderly rubbed her sore head in pain, and she didn't notice when Soujiro leaned over her in curiosity.

"Ah!" he grinned, lightly hitting his fist against his hand with realization. "You're that ninja girl that was with Himura in Shingetsu village!" He looked over at her, moving a bit closer to examine her. She would've tried to back away, but she was already against the wall.

"H-hey, don't you dare come any closer! I'll kick your ass if you try anything!" she warned. He stopped, and watched her with that same smile on his face.

"I can see why I didn't recognize you," he commented. "You've grown at lot since we last met." In a flash, her face became bright red, and she could feel her heart racing from how close they were to each other.

She was absolute weak. If he laid a hand on her, he could crush her small body. She looked like she could crumble under one touch.

"R-really?" she asked; well, until she came to her sense that is. "Wait a minute! Get away from me you smiling freak!" Misao pushed him away from her as hard as she could, but he only tumbled back a little bit. Soujiro chuckled, rubbing the back of his head in discomfort.

"I'm sorry about that, Makimachi-san. I didn't mean to embarrass you." Misao scoffed and crossed her arms with a scowl on her face.

"You, embarrass me? Hah! That's a laugh." She turned her head away from him with scowl in hopes that it hid her blush.

"Oh? Then why is your face so red?" he teased.

This girl showed everything to him up front. He could see every move she made, but he still knew nothing about her. She was strange, alien to him even, and he only wanted to know more.

"My face is not red!" she screamed, but the reality was against her. Soujiro could only laugh at her predicament.

"You're really cute Misao-chan." He wasn't able to dodge the kick she sent at his head this time.

"Don't say my name like we're friends! I told you that before!" Misao had her head turned away from him. No one—at least a boy—had called her cute before. She didn't want to see that she was blushing even harder now.

She was so naïve and shy—no shy wasn't the right word. She knew so little, and yet she acted like she knew so much.

"Alright, _Makimachi-_san," he said, emphasizing her name. "But you should really get to bed. It's late, and we're leaving early in the morning. You can have the futon if you want." Soujiro moved to the opposite wall and sat down. His sword rested against his shoulder, and his body seemed to instantly relax.

"I'm **not** going to sleep while you're still in the room. You'd probably kill me in my sleep."

Soujiro merely shrugged. "Suit yourself." Misao could only glare as time ticked by extra slowly. He could feel her watching him; he could feel her eyes scan him for any threat what so ever.

He longed to watch her back, but he couldn't move. Soujiro wanted to know everything about Misao Makimachi, because she went against everything his life was revolved around. She was weak, and yet strong at the same time. How could she survive in this word the way she has so far?

What makes her seem so special?

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

"Makimachi-san," Soujiro whispered into her ear. She groaned and pushed him away.

"Leave me alone," she moaned while turning away from her. She didn't even care or notice that she fell to the ground in attempts to get away from the older boy.

"You have to get up, Makimachi-san," he urged. He tried to lightly shake her awake, but she merely swatted his hand away from her.

"Get up Weasel," Saitou growled as he walked through the open door. He stared down at her sleeping form and scoffed before he kicked her on the side. He didn't care that he could've possibly damage the sleeping girl. "You're already making me regret the fact that I added you onto this job.

He rubbed his forehead as if he had a headache and turned to grab something he put onto the floor. Misao had gotten up and was glaring at him; all the while she rubbed the area that was kicked.

"Stupid wolf," she grumbled as she stood up on wobbly legs. Saitou only rolled his eyes and threw a box at her, successfully hitting her in the head.

"Why you," she began to warn, but she was interrupted by Soujiro.

"Ah, Saitou-san, what's in the box?" he asked whole stepping in between the two fighting pair.

The older man scoffed before speaking. "A kimono, and I suggest that the little girl out it on. She needs to get used to wearing them so she won't be **completely** incompetent when we get to Tokyo," he answered as if Misao wasn't even there.

"How dare you—" she was once again interrupted by Soujiro, who spoke once more.

"Ah! Why don't you put that on?" he asked. "The sooner you do, the sooner we can leave." He was glared at by both of the arguing pair, but Misao complied anyways.

"Well?" she growled. They stared at her expectantly, but it was the younger male that encountered a kick to the head. "Get out of here you perverts! I know that you'd want to see a beautiful girl like me, but that is only for my Aoshi-sama." Saitou could only snort, but Soujiro pulled him out before he could say anything.

Misao was barely able to catch the lingering words uttered by the older man, and it sounded a bit like, "Please, even the Tenken would look better in a kimono than you."

She puffed out her cheeks in annoyance, but she forced herself to ignore his words. She was able to slip the kimono on, and she remembered how to fold it, but…

She peeked through the door to look at the two males waiting outside. "Uh, does anyone know how to put this thing on?"

Nothing could stop the next sarcastic comment that came out of Saitou's mouth. "Yes, Weasel, because we really put on women's kimonos everyday." Soujiro chucked and stepped forward, the kind smile still on his face.

"Before the Jupangatana formed, Shishio-sama would have me dress up as a woman on missions," he answered with none of the embarrassment that he should have felt. Misao looked at him suspiciously, as if to see if she believed him or not, but she opened the door despite what she believed.

"Fine, whatever, but you better keep those hands away from places that they don't belong on," she warned. Soujiro only laughed and stepped inside; he was already used to the way that the younger girl acted.

"Of course Makimachi-san." The said girl sifted uncomfortably when Soujiro's arms slipped around her to firmly place the kimono around her small body. Misao jerked away from him with a blush firmly staining her flesh. "Ah, I'm sorry," he apologized, "did I touch something I shouldn't have?"

"Just hurry it up!" she commanded. Her face was tinted pink from his touch, and it could only deepen when his arms once again went around her. Misao never expected his touch to be so gentle considering the fact that he _was_ a deadly murderer. She shook her head. No, not was, is, she reminded herself.

Could she really be thinking that Soujiro could really have changed?

Misao shook herself away from such thoughts. The idea was too much to believe, and the words slipped out of her mouth before she had any thought to them. "It's all your fault, Tenken." Misao had to restrain a gasp when Soujiro pulled a bit too hard on the obi.

"What is my fault?" he asked. "Though, I would prefer it if you called me by my name. I am no longer the Tenken." He turned her around and gave her his usual smile. It didn't escape Misao's notice that Soujiro's hands lingered on her.

"Everything," she growled while wrenching herself away from the smiling boy. The said boy apologized to her for the accusation, but even she could tell that he didn't really mean it.

She rolled her eyes, but let it go in hopes that the doubt in her mind would just go away. "Let's just go," she ordered him. She tried to take a step, but it was much too big. The result was Misao stumbling onto the hard wooden floors. She struggled to get up, and Soujiro could only laugh while he held out a hand for her to take.

"Was that my fault too?" he asked in a teasing tone. The fallen girl refused his hand and forced herself to get up on her own. Soujiro thought nothing of her refusal and continued to talk. "You have to take small steps." Misao scoffed, but he noticed that she began to do just that. "You'll get used to it."

Misao began to mutter something under her breath, and Soujiro could barely make out something along the lines of "You're girlier than I am." The said girly-boy only smile and followed her out.

"Finally," Saitou sneered. "You idiots are finally done. We have to leave now! There's no time to waste."

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

There were silent goodbyes as Misao watched the train move further and further away from Kyoto. It only became smaller and smaller, but no one was there to wave her goodbye. It was her own fault after all; she shouldn't have been so hasty in leaving, but it didn't make her feel any less lonely.

Misao closed her eyes; the need for sleep overwhelming her after such a long night. Saitou noticed what that the younger girl had fallen asleep and turned to the former Tenken beside him. "You will watch over the girl during this job. If any of you screw up, I'll deal with you both personally."

Soujiro smiled, not at all concerned with the threat, before he answered. "Why are you not over seeing this? If you don't trust either of us…" Saitou scoffed and glanced out of the window.

"I have better things to do than to baby-sit a bunch of kids." The Wolf of Mibu grunted. "There is no time limit on this, and there are a lot more criminals out there. Knowing that klutz over there, it's going to take a long time until she can infiltrate the ring." Soujiro laughed in agreement. It didn't take long to figure out just how unlady-like the girl could be.

"Aoshi-sama," the said girl murmured in her sleep. Soujiro looked at her curiously. He expected a smile, even a joyful tone from this girl, but that was more of a sad sigh, a longing for something she couldn't have.

"I leave her in your hands." Saitou completely ignored her comment. "Make sure she can fight and remember what happens when she gets inside." His eyes lingered on her sleeping form, taking in how closed up she looked; how lonely she looked.

"Ah, but she doesn't trust me at all," Soujiro sweat dropped. The blue eyes softly took her in before turning back to the policeman. The said man gave him a cold look, one that clearly asked why it was even relevant.

"Why exactly would that matter? That brat will just have to deal with it." The more laid back of the two chuckled and glanced over at the girl. Her body was sprawled across the entire seat with snores escaping from her open mouth.

"I suppose so, but she certainly does make things much more interesting." Saitou scoffed and glanced out of the window. Hopefully, she would be asleep for the entire trip.

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

Misao grinned while jumping out of the train. The busy streets of Tokyo welcomed her to the city, and in her excitement, she almost didn't notice Saitou leave. She didn't pay attention to his parting word to Soujiro and bounced down the street; her intent was the Kamiya Dojo.

"Makimachi-san, where are you going?" She paused at her—if he could be called that—companion's voice. The look she gave him was enough for him to recoil back with a nervous grin on his face. "Makimachi-san?"

"You're **not** gonna fool me! You wanted me to take you to Kenshin didn't you? You want to get your grubby hands on him and—" She paused and looked around for a moment. Misao finally realized that the obnoxious policeman was gone. "Where is that stupid wolf?"

Soujiro laughed and began to head the opposite direction of the dojo. "He left to go take care of other things. Saitou said that this mission was left to us." Misao could only find joy in the fact that he wouldn't be there, and that the former Tenken was heading away from Kenshin and the others.

"I'm watching you Tenken!" she warned. "Saitou may seem to trust you, but I won't! He's an idiot anyways." He laughed and looked back at the girl struggling to keep up with him in her kimono.

"I wouldn't want it any other way Misao-chan," he teased.

"H-hey! Don't call me Misao-chan!" she screamed, successfully jumping onto the older male's back. "You can't call me by my first name yet!"

Soujiro didn't even stumble forward when she made contact with his back, and instead, he grabbed her legs and forced her to stay on him. "If you wanted a ride, Misao-chan, then all you had to go was ask."

"ARG! Put me down this instant!" she screamed as him. Her hands pounded on his back, but still he would not let her go. Her attacks or struggles didn't even affect him, but it was certainly attracting attention of many people on the streets.

Even so, they both didn't pay attention to the whispers of the others around them. Soujiro only smiled happily and hitched Misao up as punishment every time she got a bit too loud or if she moved around too much.

"I said put me down!" she screamed. Her fist came in contact with shoulder, but not even a wince indicated the slight pain he actually did feel from it.

"Seikou-san!" Soujiro called out into an elegant looking building. "Seikou-san, I was sent here by a man named Fujita Goro. He said that you would be able to help us." Misao stopped her struggles and looked inside curiously, and it didn't take her long to notice the beautiful woman appearing before her eyes.

She was elegant, graceful, and it seemed that there wasn't even a stray hair out of place. When she smiled, it was soft and beautiful, and everything about her lured you in; she was a true geisha.

When she spoke, it was like a melody that could lure you to sleep. "Ah, I was expecting you. Please come in." Misao noted how graceful she walked when Soujiro followed the woman inside. He still carried her though, much to her annoyance. "Is the girl on your back the one I am training?"

"Oh, yes! Seikou-san, this is Misao Makimachi," he introduced, tilting his head to the side to show Misao's face.

Seikou's face twisted into concern. "Did she fall or hurt herself?" Soujiro sweat dropped but shook his head. "Then why are you carrying her?"

"It's because this insufferable smiling idiot wants to make me suffer!" she screeched just as she punched his arm as hard as she could. "Now put me down now!"

Seikou sighed while she looked on at the scene. Soujiro still refused to let Misao down, and she in turn, only struggled more. "We have a lot of work to do with this little one."

* * *

To be continued

* * *


	4. Kiss

I don't own Rurouni Kenshin

Eh, this chapter feels a bit rushy rushy, but oh well. There will be a lot of mistakes since I didn't really looked over it a second time like I usually do, but I hope it isn't too unbearable.

Enjoy

Thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter! It made me happy. :D

* * *

Since that day  
I didn't know what to do about him  
for some reason  
my heart has rejected him

—Jealous by Dir en grey

* * *

Chapter 4

Kiss

* * *

Misao was in awe by the older woman, and she was sure that she was the kind of woman Aoshi wanted. If she became a graceful like her than maybe… 

"Forget all notions of love," Seikou commanded bluntly. The younger girl stared at the older woman in shock; she never expected that phrase to come out of her lips, at least, not so soon. "To be a convincing geisha, you must train to be a true one. Real geisha's **do not **love. This is the first thing I must tell you since you are just beginning."

The reaction came immediately after the last word left her lips. "How do you expect me to forget about my Aoshi-sama! There is absolutely no way that I will be able to forget my love for him! There is just no way!" She slammed her fist against the ground in anger, and even Soujiro, who was across the room, could see it shake.

Misao was spared no mercy; Seikou grabbed her face and forced her to get closer, all the while her anger was much more subtle in her words. "You are my apprentice, so you **will** listen to everything I have to say. If I tell you not to eat, you **will **not eat. If I tell you to bleed, you **will** bleed. If I tell you to forget this Aoshi, then you **will** forget about that man. Do I make myself clear?" Her grip tightened with each word and the glare never left her eyes. Even when she was angry, she managed to make it look beautiful and graceful.

The said apprentice grated her teeth together and clenched her fist. The noise coming from her mouth wasn't one that could be ignored. Her eyes flared, but she kept herself in check. She had to do this, she just had to. She couldn't let anyone down, especially not Aoshi—not the Oniwabanshuu—she would make them proud.

"Perfectly clear, Seikou-sama."

"That will be your first task," she told her, satisfied with the answer, and quickly let go of the girl. "It will be for your own good you know. You will entertain men you do not like, that I can guarantee, but you absolutely **must** make him feel as if he if the most important man in the world to you. If you love another, you just won't be able to accomplish that task. Geisha's are believed to be mere objects to be looked upon, and because of this, you must act like a perfect doll."

Misao turned away from the woman in defiance, but she didn't say a word. She gripped at the area above her heart with a shaking hand. Would she be able to…? Could she learn to forget? Could she turn herself into a doll?

It was Soujiro who spoke. "How could you force yourself not to love someone?" he wondered out loud. Both women turned to him, and he only smiled sheepishly. "I was merely wondering. It seems that most people aren't able to just control their emotions like that." Even he couldn't keep unbidden emotions from arising even if they were better left forgotten.

"She will merely learn to deal with it," was the answer he was given. "Now, Misao, please come here." The now subdued Misao did as she was ordered, but she whispered something towards the woman as she stood in front of her. The way she held herself and stood all but screamed of obedience, but Misao wasn't able to bite back the defiance in her eyes.

"I will never be able to forget Aoshi-sama."

Seikou frowned, but there were no words spoken against it. She took hold of Misao's face once again, but this time it was much gentler than before. "Hmm," she murmured whilst examining the girl's face.

"Yes, you do have a pretty face," she commented and let go of her. Her hands slid down to feel her body, and she wouldn't allow it when Misao tried to move away from her hands. Misao's body was lithe and strong, but at the same time the childlike appearance made her appear fragile and weak.

"Hey! Who gives you the right to feel me up like that! I'm sorry, but I don't swing that way." Seikou gave an exasperated sigh, but she didn't remove her hands. Instead, they moved even more, feeling, judging her in the most critical of ways.

"I am merely checking your physique. You have a nice slim body, Misao; do not be ashamed of it. It must be because of all the exercise you get from training. You are a ninja correct?" The answer was a sharp nod, and Soujiro got up. "You still look like a young girl, tell me, how old are you?"

"I'm eighteen," she muttered disdainfully.

"Ah, no matter," Seikou replied. "We can use this to our advantage. In many ways, the younger you appear the better." Her hands moved down to Misao's hips and sudden Soujiro felt like this was something he should not see. It was like this was a forbidden scene placed before him. To say the least, it made him uncomfortable, and he gave a small cough with pink brushing his cheeks.

"I think I should leave," he spoke before moving out of the room a bit faster than expected. Seikou laughed at his embarrassment and turned back to the other girl. She took a hold of her hands, and the smile was wiped away from her face.

"You're hands are rough," she stated. Misao pulled them out of her own hands and turned away with a scowl. The earlier resentment still there and her own criticism arose without any thought.

"That's what happens when you train with weapons. I do more than dance around and look pretty." Her comment was met with a frown, and Seikou stepped away from the ninja. Her eyes lingered on Misao's form from the door in disappointment.

"Being a geisha is much harder than you would imagine," she sneered. "You shall see once I put you through the process, but if that is what you truly believe, then there is no way you will be able to make it. Think about what I told you today, and we will continue tomorrow." Misao scoffed at her retreating form and got up from her spot.

"I can't— I can never forget." She looked down at the kimono on her body with scorn and suddenly she felt like she was burning, betraying the Oniwabanshuu even. Misao was becoming a girl that she didn't recognize—changing for his sake when she truly wanted him to love her for merely being her.

She never noticed Soujiro standing at the door, watching her in one of her most vulnerable moments.

She quickly stripped herself of the offending clothes; the scorn she felt easing away from her as flesh was revealed. Each layer she took off felt like she was ripping away at the chance of becoming the woman that Aoshi would admire and love. Each piece of clothing felt like a piece of what they wanted her to become. She could never become the woman they wanted if it meant forgetting the one that she loved; if it meant becoming a different person.

Misao was completely bare to Soujiro in more than one way.

"Even if Aoshi-sama doesn't love me back," she let her words dissolve into the air, and with her mind swimming around each thought, she continued quietly. Soujiro struggled to hear her words. "I'm just a child to him…A little girl that he only puts up with because of a promise."

He didn't move from his place at the door—he was seeing what he wanted to, the real Misao Makimachi. Her name came upon his lips unconsciously, almost like a tiny little plea in her moment, but Misao was able to catch it. She turned to him, completely forgetting her nude state, and he could see the sadness that she felt. In her eyes, it looked so miserable, desolate even.

"What do you want?" she asked softly. He moved forward, his footsteps silent, but he never look down at her nude form. He only looked at her face and his hands settled on his own shirt. Her eyes widened in surprise when he slipped it off and draped it over her small shoulders. His hands lingered on her body, and the only thing she could do was stare when he secured it around her.

"You really have grown up, Misao-chan," he grinned. It was the soft touch that shattered the fragile moment; definitely unwanted, but, without a doubt, needed.

Misao couldn't say anything for a second, and it was all she could do but stare at him stupidly. "Wha—? Wait, you pervert!" she screamed, and the volume was more than enough to make up for her silence before. She jumped up and kicked his head as hard as she could, but the only thing Soujiro could do was laugh.

"It's not my fault that you were stripping in front of me for no reason at all." Another scream escaped from her lips, and she swung her fist at him in anger. He ducked and grabbed Misao's arm, easily flipping her over.

A groan of pain left her lips when her back made hard contact with the floor. He didn't allow her time to recover because he immediately dove on top of her; his legs pinned hers, his hands secured her arms above her, and the smile on his face drove her insane.

"Let me go!" she screamed as she tried to struggle out of his grasp. Everything she tried to do was futile, and it only served to amuse the boy on top of her even more.

"That's your greatest weakness, Misao-chan," he added her name in a teasing manner. At the sound of her name, she tried to buck him off, but it only earned her a snicker of amusement. "You allow your emotions control you. Even a novice could predict your movements at that rate. Being angry isn't very pleasant, Misao-chan."

"Anger? I'll show you anger!" She threw Soujiro off of her with much difficulty, and it was only successful because of her sheer determination and rage. "I'm gonna kick your ass!"

Misao threw a punch in his direction, but he was able to dodge it easily. The former Tenken grabbed her arm and flipped her over his shoulder. The younger girl screamed in frustration as she landed on her feet. Her eyes blazed with anger towards the older boy.

She aimed a kick at his head, screaming at the while, but Soujiro just ducked out of the way with a teasing smirk on his face. "I can see everything when you do that," he taunted. "Don't you remember that the only thing that you are wearing is _my_ shirt?"

Misao growled and reached for her kunai, but she was only reminded of the fact that they were in the kimono that she had taken off. "I hate you!" she screamed. She didn't think as she ran up to him. She couldn't think as another punch was aimed at his chest. This time, Soujiro didn't try to dodge it. He didn't even wince at the impact, and she knew that he was showing her, just as Kenshin did.

"You're weak, Misao-chan," he stated emotionlessly. The smile only widened on his face, and his hand clutched onto her fist. "You let your emotions take over you. You don't even know how to attack or when to attack. You underestimate your opponent, and you overestimate your own skills."

A scream of pain left her lips once Soujiro's hand tightened against her wrist. His eyes flashed dangerously with the smile on his face, and the only word to describe him was maniacal. He twisted her arm and forced it behind her back; the single action Misao could take was to fall onto the ground when his knee forced itself onto her back.

"You lose," he whispered into her ear. Misao's tired panting was loud in the air, and he could feel the slickness of her skin.

Soujiro released her after a few moments of silence and walked out of the room without another word. "Don't walk away, you smiling freak! I'm going to kick you ass!" she screamed. Her legs wouldn't move as she commanded. She couldn't get up and go after him because he was right, she was weak. He didn't even break a sweat, and here she was, on the ground with sweat pooling out of every pore of her body, and unable to get up.

"Dammit!" she shrieked. Tears upon tears rolled down her face, and her fist pounded against the wooden floor. "Dammnit, dammnit, dmannit!" she chanted in frustration. Why did she have to be so weak?

She gritted her teeth and forced herself to stand. Her fist clenched themselves so hard that blood dripped down from her enclosed hand. With heavy steps, she made her way towards her clothes, cursing the smiling boy all the way. Misao's body felt so heavy, as if everything up until now were standing on her shoulders: the wasted years of her life for one man, the words he had spoken before he left, the mission she would have to complete, forgetting everything that she was, and, of course, the boy she had to work with.

He came back, watching her struggle on her feet. Soujiro never realized that the impact was really that hard. A towel was clutched in his hand, and the same cheerful smile never left his lips. He watched as Misao picked up her clothes, her hands rummaging for something inside them, and a flash caught his eye. "Even after you've lost, you still want to fight, huh? You definitely have determination," he chuckled.

The towel laid innocently on the ground beneath his feet, and in his hand was one of Misao's kunai. She looked at him with the said determination in her eyes, but it he wasn't the person she saw; in his place was a tall, blue eyed man.

She ran forward, her left kicking out towards him, and in her mind, she didn't care what he was able to see. He caught her foot and pushed her back, but it didn't do much to her. She only jumped away from him, and Soujiro laughed as he propelled himself forward. A stream of knives followed in his wake from above him.

She had to prove herself to be worthy. Misao Makimachi wasn't weak!

She landed on the floor with a loud thump, but she didn't have time to contemplate her next action because he was on her immediately. His fist lashed out at her, and she was barely able to move out of the way. Each movement she made was sloppy and predictable. Misao was only barely able to dodge or block his attacks. Soujiro's taunting blue eyes transformed to icy blue eyes, and unbidden tears wanted to make its way to her eyes, but she wouldn't allow them.

She tackled him, sent him to the ground with her sprawled over him; the image still fresh in her mind, haunting her, devouring her mentality even. The tears fell, for him, for herself, wishing, wanting, the old him back. Her mind and heart screamed out at her; Misao's fist raised, ready to attack, but she couldn't.

They came down in waves, the tears at least, seeing nothing but his emotionless eyes staring up at her. He didn't make a move, only stared at the grief-stricken face; the years all coming back to her, searching and waiting, and it was now all for nothing.

She had to forget. She _needed_ to forget.

Soujiro leaned forward and brushed his hand against his cheek; the touch was softer than she imagined it to be. The tears, the forgotten attack, the anger, the sadness, the fight, the talk, the lack of clothing: it all got to him. He couldn't control his actions when he leaned forward and pressed his lips gently against her.

Misao didn't respond. Her body was frozen, and her eyes closed. Soujiro wasn't who she saw, and instead, Aoshi took his place. Her heart clenched in her chest, and her hands moved up to smooth across his shirt.

The kiss was nothing. It was merely just their lips lightly pressing against each other. There was no experience, no love, no passion, no emotion, nothing but sadness. Soujiro because he felt that he _had_ to do it, and Misao because she saw a different man.

Reality had to settle into the two, and it was Soujiro who parted from the inexperienced girl. She didn't open her eyes; she simply held onto his shirt lightly, unwilling to let go. His voice came out softy, but she didn't hear his words. She could only hear his voice as it rumbled softy in her ear.

It wasn't the voice she wanted to hear.

Misao's eye opened, wishing to see the haunting blue eyes, but instead she was met with fake smiling ones. Her grip loosened against his shirt, her mind not comprehending that this was Soujiro and not Aoshi. His image was melting away and showing a face she didn't want to see.

She jumped away from her like she was burned. Her hands moved to her lips and remember that _he _was the one that stole her first kiss; the kiss that she was saving for Aoshi. The kiss that she though she was _giving_ to Aoshi.

She never realized that she put no love in that kiss.

"Y-you kissed me!" she shouted, astounded by that simple fact. It felt like nothing when it did happened, but now, afterwards, her lips tingled pleasantly.

"I couldn't help it, Misao-chan," he answered cheerfully. The expression on his face didn't show how he felt. For the past two years of wondering, he found nothing that could answer his questions. Yes, he saw things in a different light, but he didn't _feel_ anything. But now that she was there, in front of him, doing things that confused him… He could _feel_ again, and he wasn't sure whether they were wanted or not.

"Don't call me that! We aren't friends, and how dare you kiss me! You stole my first kiss! I was saving that for Aoshi-sama!" she fumed. Misao tried not to led on how she was effected, and she didn't want to show just how shaken up she was by the fight and the kiss.

"I didn't see you complaining." Soujiro didn't seem to be able to learn when it came to Misao, but then again, she was never really able to do anything about what he would say.

"You— I… ARG!" she screamed, stomping out of the room and grabbed her bad along the way. Soujiro just chuckled and stood up himself. Unlike Misao, it wasn't just his lips that tingled, it was his entire body from the contact she had from him.

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

Misao stumbled down the road with a grumble. It was easy to move now that she was back into her ninja uniform. Everyone steered clear of her because of the red staining her face from anger—and of course, from the memory of that kiss, but that would just ruin the whole mood of this scene.

She didn't stop her grumblings until she was in front of the dojo, and she didn't even bother to make herself known; she just waltzed right in, red face and everything. "Misao! What are you doing here? I didn't know that you were going to come to visit," Kaoru said when she saw the ninja girl enter.

Misao forced a smile onto her face. "That's 'cause I'm on a mission! Though, right now I'm here to warn Kenshin about something. Where is he?" Kaoru shoot her a look that clearly stated, "You're not telling me everything," and pointed Misao into the direction she should go in, the dojo.

"Kenshin! Hey, Kenshin!" she screamed. Just as she opened the door and was ready to blurt out a warning about Soujiro, her eyes nearly flew out of her sockets. Right in front of her stood the boy that kissed her only an hour before.

"You!" she screamed, pointing at the smiling boy talking to Kenshin cheerfully. They both could see her face turning an even brighter shade of red by the memory of what they both had done.

"Hello, Misao-chan!" he chirped. Kenshin gave a similar greeting but was taken back by the anger shimmering in her eyes.

"What are you doing here you smiling freak?" she demanded. "Are you here to kill Kenshin? Huh? Are you trying to finish the job?"

"Oro?" the older man stated confusingly. In the mean time, Soujiro only gave her an amused glance.

"Actually, Misao-chan," he teased lightly, "I come to visit often." Misao's mighty glare proved that she didn't particularly believe him.

"Don't call me Misao-chan, dammit! And stop lying already! I know your plan," she growled up, stomping up to him like it would be more threatening. It didn't help, considering the fact that she was shorter than him.

"Oh?" he asked, snaking out a hand to stroke her cheek lovingly. She reeled back in shock and stumbled backwards. "The plan that you knew about before I did myself?"

"Oh! Why you… ARG!" she screamed for the lack of a better word.

"Ah, it's true Misao-dono," Kenshin reassured. "Soujiro just came to visit a few months ago. I'm surprised he came by again so soon." Misao's eye twitched, not in a "I'm only slightly annoyed" twitch, but a full out "I'M GOING TO KILL SOMEONE" twitch.

It's certain to say that Misao was not pleased.

* * *

To be Continued 


	5. Determination

I don't own Rurouni Kenshin

Oh look! It's a new chapter! XD Anyways, sorry for not updating last week... I got a bit distracted. Now I'm far behind my word goal...

Ah well, I'll just kick it in over gear to catch up. Hope you enjoy this chapter! It's a bit iffy for me, mainly cause I didn't know really what to write, but yeah. Not but else to say, so enjoy!

* * *

There is one reality  
it's foolish to look back on yesterday.  
The sky unending, goes on forever  
to a world without shadows

—New World by L'Arc en Ciel

* * *

Chapter 5

Determination

* * *

Insomnia came to Misao that night. Sleep was there, right within her reach, but she couldn't grasp it no matter how hard she tried. Everything was always so out of reach for her lately, and no matter how much she tried to force herself, she just didn't seem to be able to do attain it.

An angry huff left her lips before she threw the covers away from her. The fresh air of the night filled her senses as she made her way out of her room. The moon shone brightly against the dark sky, and a smile made its way onto her lips. Maybe, just maybe, Aoshi was thinking about her right now.

Misao allowed herself to forget everything that was happening to her, because Aoshi was all that mattered right now. Even if he didn't love her back, she would always love him.

She walked down the walkway of the building before she stopped to look out into the city. Everything was silent, like there was no care held in this world, or at least, the city: it was peaceful, to say the least, but still a bit unnerving.

Misao didn't dare say a word though, and instead, her feet quietly padded against the wooden floor until she reached the garden. It was easy for her to see through the dark, and she only smiled to find that it was completely void of anyone else.

It was welcoming to be out here: the scent of fresh flowers, the cool wind, the silence. It all reminded her of home, the Aoiya. She closed her eyes and imagined that she was there again. The Oniwabanshuu ninja relaxed and balled up her fist; there was an imaginary opponent in front of her, and she attacked.

Punch, kick, dodge, jump: Misao moved fluidly, the stress and reality floated away. Everything about her was fighting; it was what she needed—what she craved. There was no pattern because it was too predictable for her. Instead, she had everything in there at random while at the same time it flowed.

She moved until she was tired, and even then, she continued. Her hands flicked to the comforting hilt of her knives, but she didn't pull them our or use them. Misao only needed to feel them to know that…

She wasn't sure what she knew, but it was there, the comfort and the familiarity. Misao Makimachi was ready to become a geisha.

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

Breath in, breath out… Breath in, breath out…

It was a basic function of life that required no thought whatsoever. To concentrate on such a little thing brought peace of mind because everything else just seemed to melt away. For one Aoshi Shinamori, he was getting a peace of silence that he had never gotten before.

Breath in, breath out… Breath in, breath out…

His eyes were closed, another wall, to keep everything out. The outside world did not matter at this point; there was only peace of mind. Four faces flashed into his mind: Hannya, Hyottoko, Shikijo, and Beshimi. They _mattered_, and they should never be forgotten. He didn't deserve to live as they died; he was worthless, unneeded, and unwanted. Aoshi couldn't even…

"_You were never there…" _

He couldn't even protect Misao, an innocent child—his child. She was his ward, his responsibility, and he couldn't even protect her when she needed him most. He didn't deserve her tears, and he didn't even deserve her admiration. It wasn't love, Aoshi was sure; she was too young and readily influenced for it to be love. No matter what, in the end, he wouldn't be able to protect her from the pain. Images, memories, of the past began to fly through his mind: a little girl, a group of friends, happiness. They were so distant to him that it didn't seem to be real.

Breath in, breath out… Breath in, breath out…

The cold air wafted around him as he forced the images out of his head. Concentrate on the simplest things, and you will find peace. The pain will not come, and the memories will be chased away. Still, it shall linger, never to be forgotten.

Breath in, breath out… Breath in, breath out…

He only needed the basic function of life. Aoshi would live in their stead, but it still didn't take away the pain or the fact that he shouldn't be alive. No! The images must never be forgotten...They should never be forgotten. He didn't deserve redemption or forgiveness. The only thing he could do was stay here and try to repent for his crimes. Maybe then, he would be able to join Hannya, Hyottoko, Shikijo, and Beshimi when he dies.

Breath in, breath out… Breath in, breath out…

Not too far from where he was sitting, a pair of shoes, much too small for Aoshi lay innocently on the floor. The mud had dried long ago, and it just sat there waiting for its owner. He could only hope—couldn't help but hope—that she would come back.

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

First, she had woken up late. Her body was tangled in the blankets, and drool escaped from her mouth. Misao didn't remember getting back into her bed, but she never lingered on the thought. She only wanted to get some food into her empty stomach. As she got up, her body was sore from the workout she had endured last night, but she was fresh and satisfied.

Second, she was able to get into her kimono on her own, but she wasn't given enough to eat. The food wasn't filling, nor was it even any good. The Aoiya had better food, and when she wanted to complain, _Seikou-sama ­_wouldn't allow her to eat anymore. Apparently, she had to watch her figure.

Thirdly, she hated the Tenken. There was no way around that. Misao Makimachi will forever hate Soujiro Seta, the Tenken. He left a sour taste in her mouth, so maybe that was exactly why the food tasted so bitter.

Soujiro ruined everything.

"Again!" Seikou shouted. Misao jumped in surprise, causing the fan to clatter to the floor with a large clang. A grumble of annoyance left her lips before she leaned down to pick up the offending, to Misao, object.

"How many times do you want me to do this?" she growled. Her teacher narrowed her eyes at her before pulling out two of her own fans. The music flowed out from the shamisen, and it only furthered the dance even more.

Seikou's movements were graceful, as they always were. Her body was like a work of art as she danced. No movement was awkward or sharp, and instead, they were soft and professional, like she was making love with the air. Everything was done perfectly. It was a skill that Misao knew she couldn't perfect in the few short hours she's been practicing.

"You will practice until you can dance like that. Do you honestly think you can attract any attention with your current skills?" Misao glared at the older woman and held onto her own fans. Did this woman really think that she would get it in one day?

"I'll show you," she grumbled, with the great logic and level head-ness she was known for, and flicked them open. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes to remember the steps that were taught to her just hours before. At first, they were awkward—she was still not used to the restraints of a kimono—but soon, everything began to melt away and morph into her own thing.

Misao was a little girl again, and she was in the Aoiya dojo practicing with her kunai. She threw both of them up, twirling around right before catching it once again. There was no music that reached her, but she heard noise and chatter that was like a lullaby to her ears. A dance, she had always thought of playing with her kunai as a dance. She would make up difficult routines that would impress Aoshi when he came back.

The fans were constantly in the air with each throw, but she never failed to catch them. Her feet moved in a fighting dance that just memorized Seikou. Misao looked elegant in her dance, but at the same time it looked like she was a fierce warrior. She jumped with the fans, catching them in mid air, but instead of gracefully landing on the ground, she fell in a crumpled heap. She couldn't calculate her landing because the kimono was heavier and more restricting than that of her uniform.

The older woman didn't want to admit how fierce and beautiful it had been. She didn't want to say that it was near perfection because then it would only make the trainee try half as hard as she has been so far. She needed the determination Misao has been sowing so far so they can truly do this in the little time that was needed.

"Good, but you still have work to do," Seikou pointed out. "We don't exactly have all the time in the world." Misao only grumbled in annoyance and got up from the floor. The fans were clutched in her hand as she got ready to dance again, but the geisha had different plans for the young girl in training. "No, that is all for today. We will work on your walk next."

Misao wanted to scream at the older woman, but she kept her mouth firmly shut and followed her out. So far, it was getting easier to walk, but she wearily watched the ground for anything that could trip her.

"Do not look at the ground," Seikou commanded without looked back at the girl. She was easy to predict at this point, but it caused the ninja to snap her head forward, and she stumbled a bit before continuing to follow the geisha. "It makes you look unsure when you watch the ground. You must look ahead with confidence." She looked back at her, and Misao swore that her eye twitched when she saw the shoes clutched in the older woman's hand. "Once you learn to walk in these, we will be able to continue on with the next lesson."

Those shoes were going to kill her.

And so they practiced for hours and hours on end. Misao felt blisters on her feet, and there were scraps on her hand from all the times she had fallen—and the practicing she did last night, but Seikou didn't know about that. Still, she refused to complain about anything because determination fueled her mind. She wanted to show that she could do it. She wanted them all to see that she was capable of being a good leader by carrying out this mission flawlessly. She wanted to—

Misao wasn't able to bite back the curses that just flew out of her mouth. Her kimono was ruined, dirty, and torn. There was blood from the broken blisters of her feet, and her fist clawed the unforgiving dirt beneath her.

Seikou only looked on with cold eyes. "Again," she demanded while walking to the fallen girl with the same shoes while still holding a high level of elegance. She was surprised though, to see Misao already getting to her feet and walking away from the beautiful woman. Her legs struggled and waned at the pressure, but still, the Okashira of the Oniwabanshuu would not give up.

She could see the goal in her head: to reach the skills of her friends; to be strong enough in their eyes. If she couldn't reach their strength, she needed the skills to be able to do as much as they could in her own way. If she could be a geisha, then she could be helpful and be able to infiltrate buildings much easier than she could now. She would—

"Wow, you're really working hard," Soujiro pointed out from his place at the door. He watched her struggle without a word before, but now he just couldn't keep quiet. He couldn't understand why she was working herself to death. It wouldn't change the fact that she was weak. To do any of the things she had to was worthless in his eyes. Who would really need to know all of these things? These skills were useless.

"Yeah, I have to work while you're sitting on your lazy butt doing nothing but watching me!" she spat out angrily. He laughed at her in amusement.

"But I'm not sitting down, Misao-chan," he teased. She growled at him and tried to continue, but without her concentration, she ended up falling once again.

"Shut up! That's not the point." She struggled to get up again, and Soujiro chose that time to make his way towards her.

"Do you need any help?" he asked, but she refused. It didn't matter to the former Tenken though because he took he hand no matter what she said. "C'mon," he whispered as he pulled her along.

"H-hey, lemme go!" she screamed as he made her stumble with each tug he gave her. He only gave her his usual smile and continued to pull despite her protest. She didn't have time to think or to move her feet because he wouldn't allow her to. He just pulled her along with the same mocking smile on his lips, and it would only anger her further and further. "Stop it you freak!"

Soujiro did just as he asked and immediately let go of her hand. The only problem was that she wasn't expecting such an action, even though she demanded it, and fell to the ground in a crumbled heap. "Oh! Why you!" she screamed.

He laughed and back away from her. "I was only doing what you asked me to!" he defended himself. She didn't listen and just got to her feet. Her hands were balled up into a fist, and she was ready. Oh boy was she ready.

A fist went flying into his face, but he was able to move away in time. She followed his lead, ready to smash a foot into his stomach, but he only backed away. That was how it went, she would attack, but he would only back away with a taunt to have her chase him.

Seikou didn't stop it because Misao didn't fall in this time. She noticed that there was laughter: laughter in his eyes, in the way he moved, and there was laughter in Misao as well, even if she didn't know it herself. The air was filled with silent laughter and violent anger, but even so, the silent woman had never felt such a carefree atmosphere.

They were still children, she noticed, when they were with each other. It was like there was no care between them except for the emotions that was provoked in each other and the past they seem to share. It was the small sliver of a past that only scratched the surface of something bigger.

"Alright, that's enough," Seikou ordered. She wasn't surprised when they didn't listen, but she didn't let it slide. The words left her lips once again, but this time it was even louder than before. It still didn't reach the ears of the fighting pair, at least, the ears of the one in training.

"I'm going to kill you Tenken!" she screamed.

Soujiro caught Misao's fist this time and pulled her close to him. His arms wrapped around her body in an imprisoning embrace that was tight and didn't allow her to move. "You're teacher is trying to talk to you," he muttered toward her, but his eyes looked distant. She tried to escape from his arms, but he wouldn't allow it. His grip only became tighter and tighter, and it almost felt as if he was suffocating her. It felt like he was punishing her, but for what, she didn't know.

"Tenken," she growled the best as she could, "let me go!" Soujiro immediately released her like she was poisoned and moved away from her as quickly as he could. His eyes looked furious and hurt, but the smile was still there; it was always there. Misao didn't glance at him when she walked away. She didn't see…didn't want to see.

The feeling of suffocation was still there for her, and for him, the past that was better left forgotten just kept on being dug up like a never healing wound.

"That's enough," Seikou's voice broke out. The air around them changed, she noticed, but she never mentioned it.

Something broke it, but she wasn't sure what it was.

* * *

To be Continued 


	6. Warmth

I'm so sorry that this is so late! There was so much stuff going on in my life that I just couldn't write at all. Family problems, computer not working, school starting up, relationship problems, etc.

I finally sat down and got to writing, but this is nothing really special because I have writers block now and can't remember exactly what I was planning for this story. I'm going to look around my room for the outline I had written, and I'll be starting this up again.

* * *

Chapter 6

Warmth

* * *

She was training again that night, but it wasn't just fighting that she practiced. Soujiro noticed that she had been out there many nights in a row, and it wasn't just a couple nights either, it had been a full month since they had arrived.

You could tell too: her eyes looked tired, and her body was filled with blisters, cuts, scraps, and sores. She never stopped going at any case, and Soujiro never stopped watching. She was weak, that much was sure, and it was a thought that always went through his mind, but each time he watched her as she fell and got back up, she looked stronger and stronger each time.

The air was warm that night, crisp and clean, the perfect night to spend just relaxing away. He sat not too far from her; his gaze never leaving or straying. Misao did anything but relax.

It was hard for her, to push away what made her, her. Misao never wanted to dress up in a kimono and put on useless gunk on her face; she didn't want to become dainty or submit to anyone else. She wanted to fight! The young girl wanted to travel, to keep all of her options open, except for one of course. There was one only option for her in the center of her life, and that was Aoshi and the Oniwabanshuu.

Soft pants came out of her mouth, her body worn and tired, but she kept on going. Her body lurched forward, almost like she was attacking with the fan clutched tightly in her hand. Instead of ending it with a strike though, her arm swooped up, throwing the object high into the air, before catching it with the other.

Misao moved to a different stance, but her already wounded feet could no longer take the strain. Her knees buckled underneath her and gravity caused her body to slam against the ground. Her hands were scrapped from the fall when she attempted to catch herself, and the soft pants turned to harsh ones. The kimono she wore was ruined, among many others that she wore before them.

She was dirty, hurt, and tired, but she still wanted to continue. There was no chance for her to however because Soujiro stepped up, his finger tapping his chin in a thoughtful expression.

"I would've thought that you would be in bed by now," he lied easily, holding out a hand for her.

Misao didn't take it, only brushed it aside to push—force—herself up. She remembered his hands, the tightening embrace. Suffocation—punishment—but for what, she didn't know. The smile, a mask, she moved away from it all.

"I could say the same for you," she answered coolly. She moved to go past him, but he grabbed her arm in a tight grip. It wasn't punishing like it was about two weeks before, but instead, it was just to make sure that she would be there and stay there.

"Get some rest alright?" The smile on his face and the comment he made him seem like he actually cared, but she couldn't shake the feeling of dread and hatred. His hands on her only made her remember even more.

"I don't see why you care," she snapped back. Soujiro didn't let her comment faze him, and he merely smiled before letting her go. She expected him to taunt her, to tease her; even mocking her would be fine. She just didn't want him to look at her with that kind, caring smile.

It made her feel wrong for hating him so much.

"We wouldn't want to have you fail the mission even before it starts," he added after a few moments. Misao sent him a furious glare and stomped off. She retracted that statement! She would never feel wrong for hating him!

"Oooh," she muttered to herself. "He will never change! How could I even think of—" The young girl stopped herself in mid-rant. "I didn't even—" She shook her head furiously and continued to her room. In her anger, she didn't even notice the pain or fatigue. The Oniwabanshuu ninja merely wanted to get away from the former Juppongatana Tenken.

Soujiro watched her go, the smile itching to fall away, but it never did; not even when she was out of sight. His hand twitched towards the sword by his side. Even after Kenshin defeated him, he still didn't get rid of his sword. How could he? Soujiro needed it by his side for comfort and protection. The former Tenken couldn't—wouldn't—get a reverse blade or swear to never kill. He was a wonderer, but he would never be Kenshin.

He pulled it out, feeling the familiar weight, but there was no enemy to take down in front of him. There was no obstacle he had to get through, and there was definitely no reason for it to be in use.

Without a need for his sword, he felt like there was no purpose in life. _He_ had no purpose in life. Even after two years, he couldn't find anything. All he faced was a life of loneliness and emptiness.

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

Misao couldn't help the look of distain on her face as she gazed over to the smiling face of Soujiro; he didn't look fazed by the plans Seikou had for them. She looked back at her teacher in disbelief, but the look on her face left no room for complaints.

"I know very well how you feel towards Seta-san, and that is exactly why I will have you do this. If you are able to entertain a man you hate, then you will be able to entertain any costumer that comes your way." Misao sat down across from him with the complete look of distaste splashed across her face. "Misao-san," she warned lowly.

The girl answered with a deep breath before she looked towards Soujiro with a small smile on her face. He felt amusement rushing through him at how horrible she was at concealing her emotions. Her face was pleasant enough, but her smile was tight and there was hostility in her eyes. Her fingers fidgeted in her lap like she wanted to get up at leave at any moments notice.

"Welcome, Seta-san," she told him, but instead of an angelic voice of a geisha, it was tense and forced out of her too tight smile. Soujiro answered with a laugh before he answered back.

"Please, Makimachi-san, call me Soujiro. You don't have to be so formal," he told. "You look beautiful today," he added once he looked her over. Misao didn't even bat an eye towards his compliment.

She hated his smile. She hated how laidback he seemed. She hated how he made her feel stupid. Most of all, she hated the fact that he was the one who made her feel like a woman.

She didn't want to look at him, so she kept busy by reaching out to pour him some tea. Misao was unable to make any conversation, and he only reached out for his tea with no subject of conversation himself.

Seikou watched them with harsh eyes, and it took all of her own training to keep herself from lashing out at the younger girl. Her performance was so poor even when it was so important to get it perfect quickly.

Everyone sensed the hostility in the air, and it was Misao who smiled more naturally and picked up the cup gracefully, something she could only accomplish from all the times she drank tea with Aoshi.

"I hope that you have been having a nice stay in Tokyo," she spoke in a soft—for Misao—voice, acting as if she had never met this boy before. "You were originally from Kyoto, right?" Misao's shoulders relaxed and her body much more comfortable, but her eyes couldn't hide what she felt at that moment.

He smiled at her over the cup and spoke after taking a prolonged sip from the cup just to irritate the girl even further. "It's been very…interesting here. I'm not sure if I want to leave and go back to Kyoto if it means that you aren't coming with me."

She could not hold herself back from rolling her eyes and she set down her cup on the table before answering, trying to stay as polite as she possibly could. "I was born in Kyoto also, so I'm gonna go back there someday."

"Stop!" Seikou commanded as her eyes darted between the two of them. "Misao-san, you must speak properly! Do not say words like 'gonna' and do it politely! No rolling your eyes." Soujiro stifled back a laugh and the scolded girl glared at him. "Do it again, and this time, I want to see a proper geisha."

The trainee gritted her teeth and turned back to the "costumer" she was supposed to entertain. "Soujiro-san," she said breathing it out like his name was just an ordinary object not worth motioning. "It would be very," she paused for a moment to think of a word and smiled, completely fake and deprived of affection or happiness, "lovely to go back and visit Kyoto with you. Maybe we shall go together someday?"

"It would be very nice," he answered and placed a hand on her knee just to irk her some more. "Maybe I should take you away from this life. It doesn't make you happy does it?"

She paused and looked at him, remembering the words that Seikou had drilled into her mind to speak when this was brought up. "I enjoy the time that I spend with you, but I fear that within time, you would grow tired of me."

Soujiro smiled and leaned over to place a kiss onto Misao's cheek. It was more than just a sign of affections, actually it wasn't one at all, but when he whispered into her ear, she almost wanted to believe his words to be true, but they were teasing and mocking.

_"I will never grow tired of you."_

Misao looked away with a blush on her face and she could feel her hands trembling. He smirked, not smiled, at her, but she didn't get angry. "I feel flattered," she said, trying to stay within the persona of a geisha, but her voice was almost breathless, "but this is where I belong."

She placed a hand over his, the one that was placed of her leg, and within the moment, she caressed it as if he was her lover. Only, his hands were smaller than what she wished, his hair was lighter than she liked, and his face so much warmer than what she was used to. He had everything she hated.

And it all didn't explain why she now felt so warm.

* * *

To Be Continued 


	7. Forgiveness

Heya! I got this chapter finished pretty soon huh? Usually, I wouldn't post it up until the weekend, but since I've made you guys wait like six months for chapter 6, I figured I should just post this right away! Lucky I had two snow days huh? If I didn't, this would've taken much longer to finish! Anyways! Enjoy, and sorry for any mistakes made!

* * *

Chapter 7

Forgiveness

* * *

They were at it again, Seikou realized, when she saw Misao storming off in a huff. She had learned long ago to ignore then while they were in their little fights; it was a good way for Misao to get rid of all of her frustration before they would begin training once again. 

She had to remind herself sometimes though, that Misao was not to be a real geisha and she did not have to do things perfectly. It only had to be good enough, but that was something that felt extremely painful for the older woman to do. To her, there was no such thing as "good enough" because there _has_ to be perfection. Within the younger girl, she knew that it wasn't possible, especially if he was here.

Seikou's eyes widened when the realization came to her. "That's exactly how I can get Misao to improve even faster." A smile spread across her beautiful face, but she did not get up from her position, no, instead, she situated herself onto the wooden floor in her beautiful kimono and elegantly plucked the strings on the shamisen. The music drifted around the delicate geisha, and she listened to the shouts and yells coming from inside as if it was a song—a very angry and violent song.

Misao wasn't even sure she knew why she was angry anymore. These days, all she knew was that she did not want to be around this infuriating boy any longer. "I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" she screamed over and over again knowing that as time passed on, those words were losing its truth.

Soujiro did not take her words seriously and only smiled as he usually did. "Ah, what was it that I did this time?" he asked care freely. He stood there and looked down at her patiently and ready to listen to whatever she would say.

"What didn't you do?" she snapped, hating herself for knowing that she was only picking the fights now. "Why shouldn't I hate you? You're a murderer! A freak! You followed that oversized piece of bacon for what? Power? Money? Killing? I never know what's going on in that freakish smiling head of yours! Just looking at you makes me angry!" She was breathing heavily now, completely and utterly into herself as she was screaming whatever came to her at the moment. "Everyone always treats me as if I'm a child, and I hate it! I hate it! I hate it! I hate how you're the only one who doesn't! Why dammit?"

She was slammed against the wall in an instant with Soujiro towering over her, even though she wasn't even that much shorter. The smile was still there, forever etched on, but his eyes were flashing—almost glowing—with anger before her. The last words she had uttered were not even heard.

"Don't you dare insult Shishio-sama again," Soujiro warned merrily, but Misao could detect the underlying anger. Misao didn't heed the warning.

"Why shouldn't I?" she spat. "I should be insulting you instead huh? Only an idiot would follow a psychotic over burnt bacon!" His fist went through the wall this time, creating an earth shattering _crack_that even made Seikou jump in surprise. There was a hole beside Misao's head with little cracks that traveled up the wall as if they were attempting to get away from his anger.

He walked away without another word.

Seikou was waiting for him, watching as he walked out of the dojo, and for a split second, she believed that she saw no smile on his face. When he lifted up his head though, his face still had the pleasant—unemotional—smile that he always had.

"Yes, Seikou-san? Was there something you needed?" he asked politely as if there was nothing wrong, but they both could hear Misao's angry rants inside. She was screaming about something or another, and it sounded as if it was about Tenkens and oversized and over burnt pieces of bacon…

She stopped, looking closely at Soujiro's face and forgetting entirely what she had wanted to say. "You look like you're in pain," she said, instead, and watched as confusion filled his face.

"In pain?" he questioned. "What makes you think I'm in pain?" She smiled gently and reached her hand out to lightly brush against his cheek. She pulled back slowly and looked at the wetness on her fingertips.

"You're crying," she stated simply, and it only caused his smile to grow wider. His eyes closed as if he was remembering a pleasant memory and successfully stopped the tears.

"Oh? I guess I am." The air was filled with silence as Soujiro walked away and not even Misao had uttered a word at this moment. Seikou looked inside to see that the young ninja was gone.

Neither of them was seen again until that night, where Misao was practicing again, but her movements were erratic and out of focus. Soujiro watched her as he always did, looking at her weak movements and how her emotions affected everything she did.

The night was not calm in this for gusts of wind blew past them, knocking the young girl out of balance. She was like a tiny leaf in the wind with no control over her own actions, thinking over what she had said that day towards Soujiro.

Those same words flowed through his head over and over again, confusing him and taunting him. "Shinamori's an idiot, you know," he said out loud, and it was loud enough for Misao to hear.

"What did you say?" she snapped at him, her head whirling around to look at the boy, not even wondering why he was out so late at night. "Aoshi-sama is not an idiot! He's—"

"Someone who also followed Shishio-sama," Soujiro interrupted, stepping up to watch Misao's eyes flickering with recognition and remembrance. "'Only an idiot would follow a psychotic over burnt bacon!' Isn't that what you said, Misao-chan?" His face was like a statue, forever etched with that smile. "But you forgave him didn't you?"

"Of course I forgave him!" Misao retorted. "I love him, and he's not like you!" Soujiro's smile turned cruel, and he was walking towards her slowly with words that sought out to destroy anything she believed in.

"Oh? He's not like me?" he asked, but he didn't expect to receive an answer. "He's killed people, you know. Countless people, and what was it for?" He was cornering her now, boxing her in with his arms, his suffocating arms, against the cold wooden wall.

"Power? Money?" he mocked within her ear. "Survival?" He was close, so close that it was just a brush of clothes away, and Misao felt trapped, completely trapped and caged. "No… Pride." His smile was beyond cruel now, and it was only something that an underling of Shishio could pull off. "To be the strongest. To be seen as the strongest. But you want to know something Misao-chan?"

Her body was shaking, and her voice couldn't work at this point. Souiro wasn't doing anything, only speaking cruel words with a cruel smile, but she could see—feel—his strength, and she was scared, absolutely terrified.

"He's weak. But you'll still forgive him through everything right?" His face looked almost pleasant now, like everything was forgiven for any mistake that was made. "And what about Himura? He's killed people, much more than me and Aoshi combined."

His fists were clenched up beside her head, and his face was downcast to where Misao couldn't see anything but his hair. He was beside her, his head at least, pressed up against the wall, and she could only feel the lightest of touch from his hair, from his clothes, and even a slight touch of skin brushing against skin from each breath they took. .

_Pain. Never ending pain. The days dragged on, morphing together to where he didn't know when was yesterday and when was last week. He had to survive through the pain with no one, only himself, alone._

"But he's forgiven right?" Soujiro asked, but he never gave a chance to get an answer. "It's alright because you didn't see it, isn't that right? It was before your time. Or maybe, you just can't look past what you want to see."

_It was raining that night. It seemed like it would last forever. Puddles of water and mud formed beneath his feet, slick and slimy as he ran. It felt like he would never stop running. There were screams, from behind him, from in front of him, from __**him**__…Won't someone save him? Why isn't anyone coming? The screams were louder and louder and steadily becoming more frantic. _

"No one helped me then," he murmured, and Misao only caught it because he was so close. "I had no choice. I had to kill them or else they would kill me…They wouldn't forgive me. I had no choice…" She was getting her sense back, enough to push him away and to try to make sense of the words he spoke.

"What are you talking about you smi—"she paused and looked at him. He was limp on the floor, looking up at her with tears in his eyes and no smile. It was gone, and without it, he looked vulnerable and like a child who had lost his way. The statue was broken.

_His body was in pain from the beating and the strain that was put onto him. He felt like he could run no longer, and so he hid, crawling under the building hoping that they wouldn't find him. His body was overcome by fear and adrenaline, wanting and wishing that someone would come to save him. No one came._

"Why do you forgive all of them and not me?" he screamed, body tense and hands clutching onto his head. "Everyone! You forgave everyone. You forgave Himura and Saitou and Aoshi! Why? Why them and not me?"

"So-Soujiro—"

"Why do you love him so much? What makes you love him so unconditionally when all he is is a fool? I don't understand anything about you! It frustrates the hell out of me!" He was shaking now, his entire body was shaking and he could not move. He didn't understand any of this; he didn't understand her, and he didn't understand himself. He knew though, finally, why he was crying earlier today…

_He was getting closer; a rat that only lived off the life of others. He was grasping the sheath, pulling it away slowly, and frightened eyes could only watch. The sky screamed in anger, and he had no choice. __**If you're strong, you live... If you're weak, you die… **__A scream rang through the air, and a sword was soaked in blood. _

…He wanted forgiveness: forgiveness from a weak little girl who shouldn't matter. He wanted her to put her faith and trust in him like she did with so many others, but he couldn't understand why. Why did he care so much about what she thought?

He was hurt, that was all that ran through Misao's mind. He was hysterical, he was frantic, he was out of his mind, and she didn't understand anything he was saying. She lost herself, who she was and who everyone saw her as, when she saw Soujiro like this. She didn't know what to do, and she didn't know what to say.

She only acted at this point, bringing her hands out and covering his own over his head. She brought him towards her, holding him against her almost like a mother would for her child. His face was buried against her shoulder, and her arms were folded around him. She didn't understand, and for once, she didn't have to.

_He was standing in the never ending rain, his head tilted downward with that smile etched onto his face. The sword was soaked in blood, and his body was soaked by the rain. The bodies were crumpled around him like they were broken dolls never to be played with again. His tears fell with the rain._

"I forgive you," she muttered over and over again. "I forgive you. I forgive you…" Soujiro felt like the never ending rain had finally stopped….

And Seikou saw it all.

* * *

To Be Continued... 


	8. Breakdown

Here I am with the next chapter! This was actually... O.o I did not expect any of this stuff in this chapter to happen. I didn't plan it, but it just came out as this, but since that's the direction that this story wants to head, I can't stop it. Now I'm anxious to see where my own story is going. XD

Also, just because Misao and Soujiro are no longer in the "I HATE YOU WITH A BURNING PASSION" stage, it does NOT mean that they are now together. It doesn't even mean that they love each other yet. In fact, they don't! Not yet at least. Their relationship is going to be very, very slow. I'm sorry if you guys don't like it.

Also to catgrrl, I'm really sorry that you don't like the way I portray Soujiro, but that's the way I see him as: violent and merciless. He is going to change, but it's a slow change, a very slow change.

* * *

Chapter 8

Breakdown

* * *

Misao sat there quietly and slowly picked at her food, but she didn't pay any attention to what she ate because everything was tasteless in her mouth. For once, it felt like she should not speak, and Seikou sat in front of her, watching the younger girl with concealed curiosity. That girl's mind was wondering away from reality and it didn't seem as if she would be back any time soon. 

The source of the girls distress was no where to be seen, and that in itself would be enough to anger the girl, but for once it did not. She only closed her eyes and took a bit out of her food, but she was not eating for the sake for hunger; it was only to have something occupy herself with. The silence was deafening, and it was not Misao who fidgeted and longed for something to break it, but it was the elegant geisha instead, watching the younger girl like a hawk watching its next pray.

"Misa—" she had started to say, but she paused, watching the girl even more closely when she did not even respond. The older woman cleared her throat, and when she was sure that she had her attention, she started speaking once more. "Soujiro will no longer be around here. I had asked him to stay elsewhere because it seems like his presence distracts you."

There was silence in the room once more, and Misao hadn't even put down her food while the woman spoke. She was merely in a daze and it seemed like nothing would bring it out of her. Misao finally placed down the bowl and chopsticks to signify that she was done. "What will we start with today?" she asked.

Seikou sighed and slowly rose, no longer watching the girl, and headed outside. "We will practice with the shamisen. A person's body does need rest every now and then. Meet me in the garden once you have gotten dressed and ready. You need practice putting on your kimono yourself."

The young girl agreed much too easily and went on to do the task that was given to her, and for the first time in Seikou's life, she longed for the screams and shouts to fill these halls once again.

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

Soujiro grinned when he stood before the dojo, an entrance that he had stood before many times. A small beat up duffle bag was slung over his shoulder, and if one had looked close enough then they would be able to see that his eyes were slightly red and swollen despite the cheerful smile that was spread across his face.

Kaoru stepped outside with a huff, veins were sticking out of her head furiously, and her eyes promised death. "I swear I'm going to kill him in his sleep!" she screamed without a care about anyone who heard her. That was until she turned around to see Soujiro stand there with a sheepish smile on his face.

"Good morning Kaoru-san," he greeted as if he didn't hear or see anything just moments ago. She jumped back a bit nervously with a laugh.

"G-good morning Soujiro," she stuttered back. "Did you just see anything just now?"

"Ah?" he questioned, tilting his head to the site cluelessly. "See what?" She laughed again, only this time with a slight bit more confidence.

"Nothing! Nothing!" Kaoru waved her arms a bit as if that would dismiss any doubt that was planted within the cheerful boy. "What brings you here? I didn't expect you back so soon!"

Soujiro's smile faltered a bit but it was so quick that Kaoru wasn't even sure if she had seen it correctly. "Ah, well…" he trailed off as if he was trying to find the right words to say. "I need a place to stay for a bit." He laughed as if t was no big deal and said, "I got kicked out of where I was staying before."

He had said it as if it was something funny, but she did not laugh with him. Her eyes only softened and the once nervous smile was wiped from her face. "Of course you can stay here Soujiro." She stepped forward to wrap her arms around him like he was a child. "We'd never kick you out."

She could not see that he did not have his usual smile on his face. She couldn't tell what he was thinking when he wrapped his arms around her to hug her back, and he couldn't understand why Kaoru's warmth felt so different from the one that he had felt from Misao.

"Hey there little Missy," Sano spoke out, successfully breaking the moment between the two with a smirk on his face. "Tryin' to seduce innocent wanderers again? With your looks, it's not gonna work." He watched them from the entrance, leaning against the wall and watching with a twinkle in his eyes. "What would Kenshin think if he saw this huh?"

"Sano!" Kaoru screamed, "I'm going to kill you!" She took hold of the wooden sword that was conveniently at her side and began chasing after the ex-criminal. Soujiro could only laugh and followed them inside. The shouts of pain did not seem to faze him, and he happily continued on with only an amused glace towards the two.

"Soujiro! I did not expect you back so soon." The boy turned around and smiled at Kenshin innocently, who smiled back from where he was sitting. He joined the older man onto the wooden floor as if there weren't screams of pain not too far away.

"I didn't expect to be back to soon either," he admitted. "But it can't be helped."

"Does it have anything to do with you and Misao-dono showing up here three months ago?" Kenshin couldn't help but ask, and Soujiro didn't even bat an eye at the inquiry. In fact, just as Misao's name was mentioned, his gaze seemed to become unfocused as if he was remembering something.

_I forgive you…_

The red haired man was shocked when he looked upon the younger male. He could sense a bit of happiness in his companion: happiness, longing and still a bit of sadness mixed it. "Did something happen between you and Misao-dono?" the words slipped out before they could be stopped.

Soujiro was brought back to reality and looked back at Kenshin with a smile adorning his face, only this time, it was a real smile. "Not really," he replied, "only the usual."

"Oro?" He was beyond confused at this moment, but he could not ask anymore questions because the brunette had stood up and cheerily made his way to his room, the one that seemed to be reserved for whenever he stayed over.

It felt like Soujiro had a family again, one that actually cared.

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

Misao slowly plucked at the strings of the shamisen, but it was not enough to even make a tune. Her eyes were watching the trees surrounding her, quiet, peaceful, and beautiful, but they were glazed over like she couldn't even see them at all.

Seikou watched quietly, and she couldn't even bring herself to open her mouth to instruct the girl. She appeared to be a doll, a beautiful and sad doll. She was not made to be a doll, the older woman realized.

"What's wrong?" she asked for she was no longer able to stand the silence that stood between them. Misao did not answer and only continued to pick at the strings slowly.

The silence lasted much longer until she answered just as slowly as she played the strings. "Am I really that horrible?" she asked. "Do I really only see what I want to see?" The tears were silent as they fell from her green eyes. She set the instrument down to cover her face with her hands in attempts to stop everything, but it still came out—the words and the tears.

"I really don't understand anything do I? I can't do anything! I'm weak and stupid and…" She began to hiccup through her words and tried to bury herself within her lap like she was hiding herself. "And he was hurting, and I made it worse! And…And—"

Seikou brought the crying girl into her arms and held her tightly. The tears seeped into the fabric of her kimono, but she didn't care. She only rubbed her back soothingly as if she was her mother.

"And Aoshi-sama is so stupid!" She could feel the girl in her arms trembling and hiccupping and sobbing through the words so that it was hard to understand, but still, she allowed them to come out and listened with the utmost attention. "I forgive him, Jiya forgives him, Kenshin forgives him, everyone forgives him! But he doesn't take it. He says he doesn't deserve it and then Soujiro…"

She didn't understand, she didn't know, she didn't have a chance to know, but she uttered the words that she knew the girl wanted to hear. "I understand…" she whispered. "It's ok, you forgive him now don't you? And this Aoshi, he just needs time it seems. He needs time and people who love him to be behind him..."

"He had plenty of time!" Misao screamed, wrenching herself away. "He's had two years, but still he doesn't change! It's the same thing everyday for two years because he wants to repent, because he made a mistake, but he doesn't have to anymore! They all forgive him, I know it, because they loved him. Why can't he see that? Why can't he see that they love him and forgive him? That we love him and forgive him… Why can't he see that I love him…?"

Seikou smiled and gently wiped away the younger girl's tears. "Do you really love him?" she asked. "How do you know that you love him as you say you do?"

Misao's body felt limp and drained at this point. She slumped against the wall and looked at the trees silently once again. "Of course I love him," she whispered. "I always have… I just don't want to anymore," the girl whispered quietly, almost too quiet for anyone to hear.

"Then don't," she replied like it would be the easiest this to do in the world.

It was then that Misao finally said the words, the truth of the tears and the pain and everything. They were the words that hurt her the most because it proved that everything was for nothing.

"I just might not anymore…"

* * *

To Be Continued... 


	9. Author's Note Good News! :D

Hey guys! Sooo… I know it's been like four (going on five) years, and I know I'm an awful person for just disappearing off the face of the planet, but I have some good news!

Well, good news depends on the reaction I get to this author's note. (If I still have some readers after being away for so long!)

I'm going to start this story up again! Right now I'm in the process of going through each chapter and revising them. I'm debating on whether or not I should just completely rewrite the story or not because my writing style has changed a lot. What do you guys think? Do you want me to just revise the already existing chapters, or should I rewrite them?

But I'm thinking I should rewrite it because 1) my writing style has changed a lot 2) I completely don't remember what I was planning with this story because I've lost my outline for it (twice!) and the ending that I had pre-written out for it and 3) I think it will just be so much better if I rewrite it.

This story has been nagging at me ever since I've stopped writing. I've come back every so often and reread it and fall in love with this story all over again. I'll actually start writing the next chapter and then… something will happen. I've actually lost the flash driving containing the next chapter once and then was completely disheartened about starting again. I've lost two laptops with the files of this story.

I've started up writing the next chapter so many times, but I've also lost them just as many times. You see, I have the death touch when it comes to technology. Nothing ever survives for very long.

If you guys wanted to know the reason/excuses of why I pretty much just disappeared, here it is! And pretty much an update on my life about why I'm starting it up again.

As mentioned before, I lost the files. Multiple time. And gone through many laptops. And I had a lot of family troubles for about two years. The rest of it was me pretty much coping.

My life was really hectic, and I actually pretty much quit writing for a really long time. I've made other fanfiction accounts and tried to write again, but I was just so out of it that I couldn't really bring myself to try to write. And that just made me even more depressed because writing is what makes me happy and gets the stress out of my system.

But I'm better now. I left home and went to college (very far away from home actually) and I went to counseling to sort out the jumbled mess that my mind became. I was a psychology major, but then I took a creative writing class to see if I could get myself out of this writing funk, and I completely and absolutely fell back in love with writing. I'm remembering why I write and I got all of my passion for it back.

I pretty much decided about two weeks ago to switch to an English major and try to get into the MFA program for graduate school. Basically, I'm going to try to become a writer.

So, I was sitting here trying to think of a new fanfiction to write to get my creative juices going, and my mind was a total blank. But during lecture, they always said that if we have writer's block, we needed to grab a hold of something that's been nagging at our minds and take that and make it into a story. And this story has always been nagging at the back of my mind to be rewritten and finished.

I've had people reviewing and asking me to continue, and I wanted to know how many people I have that still want to read this story.

I will warn you guys though that the repost might take a while (I promise it won't be any longer than a month though!) because I want to write several chapters before I post it up because my goal is to try to update one a week. Having prewritten chapters will give me some leeway to continue writing future chapters.

Once again, I'm really sorry that I disappeared! I hope I didn't lose all of my readers, and I'll see you guys in the new story! :D I'll still leave this one up because this story will always have a place in my heart, and even if I rewrite it, I still want to keep the original. (and if I lose the files again, that's okay! Cause it's posted up.) and I'll post up another author's note when the new story is posted!

More reviews will definitely inspire me to write faster though! :D Sorry for the shameless plug for reviews! Aha, I just really want to know if I still have readers out there.


	10. Author's Note :D

Hey guys! Just wanted to let you know that the new edition of Two Silent Feet had been posted! It has been renamed to Painted Face, and I've decided that it's going to be a mix of a revision and a rewrite. Some chapters are mostly kept the same, just adapted to my new writing style, while others shall be completely different, so even if you reread chapters, it should be a new experience than before. :D So what are you waiting for? Go check it out! Please? Pretty please? For me?


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